


Call It Even

by CallistoNicol



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fake Dating, Modern AU, and a tiny taste of 'oh no there's only one bed whatever shall we do'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallistoNicol/pseuds/CallistoNicol
Summary: When Fandral asks if Sif can't get a date, she foolishly announces that she'll be bringing her boyfriend to their company's end-of-year parties. Now she just needs to find a boyfriend. Thank goodness her hot, broody neighbor seems to be as single as she is. Of course, Loki has his own requirements for committing to a fake relationship. There's no way this can go poorly...
Relationships: Loki/Sif (Marvel), sifki
Comments: 24
Kudos: 60
Collections: Mischief and Mistletoe 2020





	Call It Even

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eienvine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eienvine/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Eienvine! Hope this modern fake dating AU is, if not everything you ever wanted, at least enough to make you to sit back and sigh in satisfaction. Enjoy!

Sif hadn’t had a date since she walked in on her college boyfriend in bed with the redheaded cheerleader. This was partially because she was so traumatized over the experience that she never wanted to put her heart on the line again, and partially because no one had asked her out in the intervening years. When she thought about it, she would briefly wonder if she had a sign floating above her head reading UNDESIRABLE, but that thought was always fleeting, and would dissipate as soon as she reminded herself that she had more important things to worry about, such as how to cook noodles. What even was the correct consistency? Why didn’t her pasta ever stick when she threw it at the wall? And who thought throwing food at the wall was a good idea? It just made a mess and told her nothing at all about her cooking prowess. 

When asked about dating, Sif would make some vague comment about swearing off men, then change the subject, because it was no one’s business anyway. This was very effective at work; ever since the Me, Too movement and subsequent harassment trainings, no one was keen on having romantic discussions in the office, which suited Sif just fine. 

(Although if the company’s Executive Vice President, Thor Odinson, ever asked her out, she’d drop all pretenses and jump at the offer, then spend the rest of her days living happily ever after in his well-sculpted arms.)

She should have been on high alert when Fandral sought her out in the executive lunchroom, smirk in place and eyebrows mid-waggle, but Sif was too focused on her sandwich (purchased, not homemade) to pay him any mind.

“So,” Fandral said, swinging himself onto his chair. “Got a date to the holiday party?”

“I have never brought a date,” Sif said absentmindedly, wondering why deli sandwiches always tasted so much better than the meager fare she produced in her own home.

“So I’ve noticed,” he said. “In fact, I’ve noticed you never even talk about dates.”

“I try not to fraternize with my coworkers,” she said dryly. 

“And yet you never fail to ask me about my weekend conquests.”

“Do I ask you, or do you volunteer with no regard to the interest of your listener?”

Fandral waved his hand. “Same thing.”

“Not even close.”

He leaned across the table, peering intently into Sif’s eyes. It was her first hint that something was up. “Is it because you can’t get a date?” 

“I can get a date,” she said, far too defensively. And it was true; she probably could. Haldor briefly flashed through her mind. She just didn’t want to.

“Prove it.”

Sif wasn’t thinking on her feet; she blamed it on staying up too late last night binging The Great British Baking Show. For someone who couldn’t find her way around a kitchen, she was far too obsessed with watching others masterfully create delicious-looking food. “My boyfriend wouldn’t like it if I _proved it_.”

The words were out, and she immediately knew speaking had been a mistake.

“You have a boyfriend?” Fandral said gleefully, rubbing his hands together. “I can’t wait to meet him!” 

And since her pride wouldn’t allow her to admit her lie, Sif found herself in a conundrum and in need of a fake boyfriend. 

There was only one option, really—her next door neighbor. And that was mostly because he was the only male she knew who didn’t work at her company. They weren’t real friends, or even friends at all—in fact, they were still at the nod-at-the-elevator-and-mail-room stage. They hadn’t even exchanged names. All Sif knew about him was that he had that dark and broody thing going for him. Was he a tortured artist? He should be, if he wasn’t. 

But how to approach a veritable stranger and request he be her boyfriend? If he were the decent sort, he’d be appalled by the offer. If he wasn’t decent, he might jump at the chance… and that was so much worse. 

Still, she needed a date—boyfriend—and he was it. 

Knocking on his door, Sif struggled not to bounce. No need to give away her nerves before she even spoke to the man. 

When the door finally opened, she was momentarily arrested at his stunning good looks. Clearly he’d been in the middle of a nap, as his hair was mussed and he was mid-yawn. Swallowing, Sif tried to cheerfully say, “Hi!” but it came out more like a frog croak.

He didn’t say anything.

Best to just get it over with, like ripping off a bandaid. “Awkward request time, but I need a fake boyfriend for the next couple of weeks and you are literally the only male I know—sort of know—and I’m willing to beg. And in exchange, I will happily give or do for you anything you want, within moral and legal reason.”

His eyebrows went up, but he still said nothing. 

“Please?” she asked. 

“Why?” he asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. 

“I’m trying to pull a fast one over my bosses,” she said. “Or, well...no, yeah, I’m pretty much straight up lying to my coworkers.”

He cracked the door open and gestured her inside. “Let’s lay out some terms.”

“Really?” Sif demanded. “That’s it, and you’re willing to help me out?”

He shrugged. “I’m always down to poke at the corporate bear.”

“How do you know it’s corporate?” she asked suspiciously. “I could be a baker.”

He looked her up and down, as if to say “Baker? In that suit?” He had a point. “Unless you run the most successful bakery in the city,” he said, “you couldn’t afford to live in this building on a baker’s salary. And you dress like you run a bank. And a car service picks you up in the morning.”

“Yeah, let’s lay out some terms,” she said, pushing past him into his kitchen. At least he wasn’t an idiot. 

The door clicked shut behind her, and her neighbor moved to his oak dining table. It looked spotless and pristine, the sort of table that equally screamed “money” and “no one eats on this surface.” She sat down across from him and ran her hand along the table’s finish. 

“How long?”

“Until just after the new year,” she said. “I have three upcoming work events where I need a plus one. After that, you’re off the hook, and by the time I need a plus one again next year, I’ll say we broke up.”

He nodded. “Three favors,” he said. “I assume there will be touching.”

“Dancing,” Sif said, wrinkling her nose. She preferred kickboxing. “And casual touches, such as a hand on my shoulder or waist. No kissing.”

“Hand holding?” 

“If necessary.”

“Made up history?”

“Made up history steeped in truth. I can’t keep lies straight.”

He smiled at her. It made his face more sinister. “So we met at our apartment complex? Misplaced mail that I had to drop at your door? Couldn’t be bothered to go back down to the mailroom. Far too much effort. Worked to my benefit, as I met you, the most enchanting creature living next door.”

He was good. “And I was so impressed, I dropped off—I was going to say baked goods, but I can’t navigate the kitchen to save my life, and they know that.”

“Store bought goods that you claimed were baked goods?”

“That’ll do.” It was her turn to smile. “I’m Sif, by the way.”

“Loki.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Maybe next time we’re in the mail room together, I’ll do more than just nod.”

“How scandalous,” Loki said. “What’s next, flashing your ankles at me?”

She laughed, knowing he’d seen her coming and going in workout attire. “My holiday party is on Friday,” she said. “It starts at seven.”

“I’ve only got three days to find the perfect suit,” he sighed. 

“You could show up naked, and I don’t think anyone would see past the fact that I have a man on my arm.”

“Mm, tempting,” Loki said. “Friday works perfectly for me, as it gets me out of a social engagement I don’t want to attend.”

“Very fortuitous.”

“It really is,” he said with a tiny frown, but he quickly smoothed out his features. “I am doing you three favors. In return, I need you to do three for me.”

It was a hefty price, but Sif had promised anything, so long as it was within reason. “They are?”

“Oh, the same,” Loki said, leaning back in his chair. “I have family engagements where I need to convince my mother I’m on my way to happily ever after, and you’ll do nicely.”

“...Family?” Sif said faintly. That was a much larger commitment than a work gathering.

“Don’t worry, my father will immediately disapprove of you, and my mother has enough tact for the entire eastern seaboard. At most, you’ll have to worry about my overly enthusiastic brother, who hasn’t figured out how to keep his hands to himself.” Sif’s eyebrows shot up. Fake girlfriend was one thing; being felt up was another. Loki noticed her discomfort and said, “I mean he likes to hug. Nothing untoward.”

She relaxed. “Not much of a hugger, are you?”

“No.”

She understood that. Sif only liked being hugged by people she already had close relationships with. “Then I will keep my hands to myself, beyond what is needed to sell this farce.” She stood up, and reached across the table to shake his hand. “Thank you, Loki.”

He walked her to his door, pausing before opening it. “If we want to sell this, it might help to spend more than five mintues together. Come over tomorrow night for dinner? We can swap life basics and flesh out our history.”

Sif shook her head. “I’m busy until Friday night,” she said, “but if you don’t hate me after the party, we could do dinner on Saturday. Rehash the event and prepare for the next one.”

Loki contemplated her words for a moment, then said, “Acceptable. But do come over early on Friday so we can share a few facts, craft a few anecdotes.”

“The car will pick us up at 6:30, so I’ll be here at six.”

“I’ll see you then, fake girlfriend.”

Back in her own apartment, Sif slumped against her door, her heart racing with anxiety after the fact. Convincing him—Loki—had been much easier than anticipated; enjoyable, even. And as long as the party went well, she was beginning to think they could actually pull this off.

* * *

Sif knocked on Loki’s door promptly at six. He opened it in his bare feet, dressed in a suit, with an undone black tie hanging around his neck. Seeing him in this state of undress felt deliciously domestic, like a true couple getting ready together. Except, of course, that Sif was already dressed in a scarlet gown lined with rhinestones, her hair casually done up in a French twist. “You look lovely,” Loki greeted, moving to allow her entrance. Sif headed straight for his living room, curious how this sophisticated bachelor chose to decorate. 

One wall was entirely lined with books, half of which were the classics. Picking up a leatherbound copy of _The Iliad_ , she said, “Decoration, or do you actually read these?”

“I’ve read most of them,” Loki said, leaning against the wall, his tie now perfectly tied. “That bottom shelf is full of books my father insists on giving me, though I’ve no interest in the subject matter.” Glancing down, Sif found an entire row of business texts. She was in the business industry, and it looked terribly boring to her. 

“What do you do, then, if you’re not in business?” she asked. 

“Lawyer,” he replied. “I dabbled in business law, but it did not agree with me, so now I do patent law.”

“Patent law,” Sif said, impressed. “Then what was your undergrad?”

“Theoretical physics with a minor in chemistry.”

He was intelligent. Sif didn’t want to be attracted to her fake boyfriend, but he was suddenly making it very difficult. She refrained from fanning herself by replacing the book she’d pulled out. “I double majored in marketing and physical education,” she said. “Couldn’t decide if I wanted to go corporate or teach rugrats how to exercise. Still only half sure I made the right choice.”

“You have a fall back skill when you’re tired of earning so much money and enjoying the finer things in life.”

Sif narrowed her eyes at him. “I can’t tell if you’re teasing or being serious.”

“A major flaw of mine, I’m told,” Loki said, moving back towards his bedroom. She noticed he offered no clarification. 

Among his books she found a large science fiction collection. Nerd, or science enthusiast? Plucking a collection of Heinlein short stories from the shelf, she flipped to her favorite, “All You Zombies.” Not her usual fare, but Fandral made her read it during her first year at Asgard. The bizarre tale of not-quite-but-questionably-maybe-incest had bonded them as work friends. 

“Like Heinlein?” Loki asked, his sudden presence making Sif jump. She noted he now had on shoes. 

“I’ve only read one of his short stories. It was bizarre, and I liked it.”

“You can borrow the book any time you like.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, returning it to the shelf, “but for now we must go and meet the car.”

It had been so long since Sif had done anything remotely date-like that she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. At least she had a clutch; at least she could pretend it took two hands to hold the bag containing nothing more than her cell phone and house key. 

Thank goodness this was all fake.

During the car ride, they invented three stories about their early days together, just in case anyone asked, which mostly consisted of finding movies they’d both seen and stealing ideas from their plots. It made remembering the details easier, though Sif’s goal was to be as vague as possible if pressed too much.

As the car pulled up to the central Asgard office, Loki went still beside her. “You work at Asgard?” he murmured. 

“Yes,” she replied, looking at him oddly. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, not at all.” He slid out of the car, holding out his hand to offer her assistance. Sif preferred to pull herself out of cars, but she took his hand just in case anyone was looking. When she was upright, Loki smoothly slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and grinned. “Into the lion’s den, my dear?”

“My coworkers aren’t that bad,” she chided gently, leading him through the front doors and into the elevator that would take them to the party floor. It originally had some other pretentious name, but the employees had started calling it that long before Sif joined the company, and now it was the floor’s official name. 

Once the doors slid shut, Loki pulled Sif into an embrace and breathed in the scent of her hair. Face on fire, she tapped his back impatiently. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“Putting on a show for the security team monitoring the cameras,” he murmured into her hair. 

Sif melted into his embrace, going so far as to return his hug. She wasn’t certain if this display was necessary, but she also wouldn’t put it past Fandral to watch the security tapes just to catch her in a lie. 

Not that being caught would be that big of a deal, but if she was going to go through with this farce, she might as well make it believable. 

Loki pulled back to a respectable distance before the elevator dinged, tucking a stray hair behind Sif’s ear. “For someone who doesn’t like touching, you’re very free with your hands,” she observed, stepping out of the elevator. 

“Just trying to be convincing,” he said, snagging two champagne glasses from a passing waiter. Sif took a small sip; apple juice, as expected. Odin, the CEO, didn’t believe in alcohol on company property or company time. It led to too many mistakes, and he refused to be sued because an employee lost control of their wits. “How very Prohibition,” Loki commented, downing the entire flute. “At my company parties, we use the real thing.”

“To be fair, as a smooth talking lawyer, you could get yourselves out of any trouble you might find yourselves in,” she said. “Here, we don’t like to be sued.”

“Mm,” Loki said in a dismissive tone. “So tell me, lovely neighbor Sif: who am I supposed to charm at this party?” 

Glancing over Loki’s shoulder, she saw Thor striding toward the pair of them, a wide grin on his face and a beautiful blonde struggling to keep up with him. “Sif!” he boomed. The man was incapable of maintaining an inside voice; were he not so annoyingly cheerful, it might grate on the nerves. Instead, people lit up when Thor entered a room. And Sif’s pulse spiked; dating a coworker was a bad idea, but it was a bad idea she would happily entertain if Thor was that coworker. “Fandral told me you were bringing a boyfriend date, but I didn’t believe it. Introduce us!”

An odd smile graced Loki’s lips as he turned to face the CEO’s behemoth son. He stuck out a hand. “Hullo,” he said. 

Thor froze mid-stride, mouth dropping as he took in Sif’s fake boyfriend. His eyes darted back and forth between Loki and Sif for several seconds, to Sif’s great satisfaction, but then he found his words. “You’re dating _Loki_?” Thor demanded, his whole face lighting up. Sif’s half-smile vanished. “This is amazing! Neither of you could make a better choice! Fandral! You’ve got to see this!” 

Fandral was there in an instant, and immediately he started laughing. “I thought you couldn’t make it because of some last minute thing,” he gleefully said to Loki. “Didn’t realize Sif was dragging you to the family party, eh? Where did you think you were going, the opera?” He didn’t wait for for an answer as he turned to face Sif, whose stomach was hovering somewhere around her feet. “How long have you and old Silvertongue here been dating? Keeping it a secret, eh? Brilliant. You two are a match made in heaven. I thought about setting you up myself; should have done it, then I’d get to take credit for this fabulous relationship.”

“We’ve been dating six months,” Loki interrupted, sharing one of the lies they’d concocted. “We didn’t want to tell you because your fat mouth can’t stop flapping.”

“True enough, true enough,” Fandral said, clapping Loki on the shoulder. “Tell me, Sif, has Loki shared any of our high school exploits with you? The trouble the three of us would get into…”

It all clicked in that moment, as Fandral started spouting off about teenage antics she’d probably regret not listening to. She wasn’t just fake dating her neighbor; she was fake dating _Loki Odinson_ , the only member of the Odinson family who wasn’t part of the business, the child they never spoke about, the son Sif had long suspected turned out to be a massive disappointment. 

Oh, dear.

Odin and Frigga chose that moment to appear, Odin frowning at Loki over his monocle while Frigga offered an elegant smile. “Thought you couldn’t make it,” Odin said, staring at Loki.

“Last minute change in plans,” Loki said smoothly. “I would have called, but didn’t want you to know.”

“You should have called me,” Frigga chided. “I gave away your place at the family table.”

Loki tugged Sif close, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I’ll still be at your table, Mother,” he said, “unless you suddenly demoted Sif or separated her from her plus one.”

Odin and Frigga both zeroed in on Loki’s arm around Sif’s waist, making her feel uncomfortable and very out of place. What had Loki said about his father? He would immediately disapprove of her? She waited for a scowl to grace her stern CEO’s face, and was greatly surprised when he and his wife shared twin grins. “This is new,” Odin said, sounding pleased. Sif’s stomach sank even further, if that was possible. “Holding out on us, Sif, m’dear?”

“Just keeping it quiet,” she said, hoping her panic didn’t show on her face. She just lied to her boss about dating his son. Lying to Fandral was one thing—the meddling twerp deserved it—but to lie to her _boss_? About his _son_? She was going to have to marry Loki if she wanted to keep her job!

“I’ll say,” Thor said. “I talked to Loki just last week and he swore up and down he was as single as a dollar bill!”

“That’s because you’re a bigger gossip than Fandral,” Loki said. “I couldn’t have it getting out that Sif was dating the CEO’s son. People might get interested in me, ask _questions_.” He shuddered delicately. “I cannot maintain a cloak of mystery if your minions are constantly pestering me.”

“As Minion Number One, I can confirm that would have happened,” Fandral said. “Still will. I have so many questions, old friend, and you’ve got the inside scoop on Sif here, who closes up tighter than a clam if you ask too many probing personal questions.”

“One of many reasons why I like her,” Loki said dryly. 

“I’ve been saying for years you two would fit,” Fandral said. “It would have been the set up of the century!” 

At that moment the small orchestra in the far corner of the room started playing a slow waltz. Dinner wasn’t due to start for another twenty minutes, and Sif needed to get her bearings before she sat trapped at a table for an hour with the rest of upper management. “If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to get a dance in before we dine,” Sif said politely. Loki, taking the hint, immediately maneuvered them towards the dance floor. 

“We’ll get the juicy details over dinner!” Fandral called as they slipped away. Loki found a waiter to take their champagne flutes, then swept her onto the dance floor in a whirl.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the CEO’s son?” she hissed as he led her in the waltz.

“Why didn’t you tell me you worked for Asgard?”

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

“And I didn’t think my lineage mattered. Why would it?”

“Normally, it wouldn’t, but you saw the name of the company on the building when we arrived. The elevator would have been an excellent time to share your last name.”

Loki shrugged. “And deprive myself of the look on your face when you realized just who you brought? I think not.”

Sif stared at him, trying to decide how to respond to that. He certainly lacked the joviality of his brother. Thor might have found the situation hilarious, but he was sure to apologize once he realized how distressed she was. Loki’s cavalier attitude was more reminiscent of his father.

“I’m not sure I like you,” she said. 

“Too late. You’re stuck with me now, fake girlfriend. Three work events for you, three family events for me.”

Before, agreeing to Loki’s family events hadn’t been a big deal when she thought they were just strangers she’d have to see three times and then never again. Now, when she and Loki “broke up,” she would still have to go to work every day with his father and brother. She felt ill just thinking about it. “We can fake break up right now,” she said, hoping it wasn’t obvious how queasy this all made her. 

“Three and three,” Loki said. “We made a deal.”

A deal with the devil. Next time, she’d actually vet her fake boyfriend.

* * *

Dinner was an exercise in discomfort. Odin always hosted an elaborate three course meal at the holiday party, claiming it was the only time some of his employees had a decent meal. (He never quite looked at her when he said that, but Fandral and Thor did. Sif made a rude hand gesture under the table where Odin and Frigga wouldn’t see.) Normally Sif enjoyed the extravagant meal, but tonight all the food tasted like sawdust as she fielded questions from her companions.

“The mail room,” Fandral sighed dramatically. “It’s so romantic.”

Sif knew he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. 

“You could make a movie out of your story,” Thor’s date said dreamily. Sif had forgotten her name as soon as it was mentioned. 

“I keep telling her our meet cute was written for Hollywood,” Loki said, leaning into Sif. Had Sif been sitting next to anyone but Loki’s mother, she would have punched his kneecap. “Imagine how adorable our proposal will be.”

Thor’s eyes widened, and he spoke around the forkful of steak he was eating. “Are things that serious between you two?”

Loki shrugged and said demurely, “It’s too early to tell,” at the same moment Sif spat out her water and said, aghast, “Absolutely not!”

“No need to rush things,” Frigga said calmly. “Sif, dear, I’m much more interested in your opinion on Loki’s refusal to call his mother.”

Now that was a topic of conversation Sif could handle. “I keep telling him he’s pushing you to an early grave, ma’am, and that when you finally kick the bucket, it will be entirely his fault.”

“Only partially his fault,” Frigga said. “Thor and Odin will have equal measures of responsibility, I’m sure.”

“Oh, please,” Loki said. “You’re going to outlive us all.”

“I’m fairly certain I’ll die long before I get to enjoy the blessing of grandchildren.”

Thor and Loki groaned simultaneously, then started needling each other about being the first to provide the family heir. Sif, feeling completely mortified, tried to melt into her chair. She wanted no part in this conversation!

Dessert couldn’t come soon enough. The second the chocolate mousse was set down, Sif had hers devoured and was dragging Loki back to the dance floor, full spoon in hand. Snatching it from him, Sif ate his mouthful. “Mine,” she said. “Payment for having to sit through that.”

“Shouldn’t that be the other way around?” Loki asked, pulling her close for a proper dance. “I am, after all, the one who was dragged here quite against my will.”

“You volunteered.”

“Hardly. I made certain I was unavailable for tonight’s festivities.”

Their conversation from the other day caught up to her. “The event I saved you from was this event,” she said slowly, then grinned. “Good. I’m glad you were forced to attend.”

Loki sighed. “I’m not. I make it a point to attend no more than once every three years, and less if I can manage it.”

“Why?” she asked, curious in spite of herself. “You get along well with everyone here.”

“Do I?” he asked sardonically. “My acting skills must have improved. I blame all the community theatre.”

Sif had a hard time imagining him in any kind of theater, let alone one sponsored by the community. “You have beef with someone?” she asked. 

He pursed his lips a moment, then said, “That is information you should probably possess, but I will not share it right now or I will lose the sunny disposition you seem to think is natural.”

“You? Sunny?” Sif snorted. “I’ve seen you brooding around the apartment complex enough to know that’s your usual state of being. I’m more surprised you’ve managed to be so pleasant all evening long.”

Loki gave her a long look. “Spend much time staring at me, do you?” he said. “Harboring a secret crush? Perhaps we’re hoping this fake relationship will become a bit more permanent?”

“By the Norns, no!” she said, so vehemently Loki recoiled the tiniest bit. In love? With a stranger? Unthinkable. Despite her attraction to Thor, Sif wouldn’t even qualify that as a crush. Crushes involved feelings that could turn into expectations that could turn into hopes and dreams that would inevitably be crushed. Much safer to window shop. Loki was a prime example of why; stunningly beautiful, but the inside left something to be desired. For that matter, the same could be said of Thor. Gorgeous, sure, but his conversation was seriously lacking. Sif could have better discussions with her sofa. How such an intelligent man could be so unintelligent was a mystery she had no interest in solving. 

“I didn’t realize I was so unappealing,” Loki said dryly. She couldn’t tell if he took her rejection to heart or not. 

“Don’t try and act like you care,” she said. “We’ve known each other for five minutes.”

“Five minutes and one dinner party,” he countered. “In some parts of the world, that’s more than enough time to declare a betrothal. We could be married in the morning!” 

Sif shuddered, and Loki laughed at her. Married…! What a preposterous thought. Thank goodness they lived in the modern, civilized world. Catching sight of Odin and Frigga watching the pair of them, Sif amended her thoughts. Perhaps Loki’s parents really were desperate to wed one of their sons off…

Five more nights of this was going to be trying.

* * *

Saturday evening once again found Sif knocking on Loki’s door, this time for their shared dinner and debrief, both of which were about to go down much differently than initially anticipated. 

Trying to make a point that Sif was not interested in her boss’s son, she was dressed in fleece-lined leggings and an oversized tshirt and hoodie from her alma mater, with her hair in a ponytail that had been seriously disturbed during her afternoon kickboxing class. She left it a mess, hoping it would send the correct message.

Loki answered the door in athletic shorts and his college hoodie, a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Sif burst out laughing. At his querying look, she said, “Sending the same message, are we?” His lips curled slightly, eyes twinkling in amusement. At least they were on the same page. 

Making herself comfortable on Loki’s leather recliner, Sif buried herself under the soft fleece blanket formerly draped over the back of the chair. It was comfy, and if Sif wasn’t careful, she could easily take a nap in this little slice of heaven. “So,” she started as Loki finished brushing his teeth. “Last night was...interesting.”

Loki tossed his phone at her, which Sif failed to catch as her hands were buried under the heavenly blanket. Dislodging one hand, she picked the phone off the floor to see a series of texts on the screen.

**Fandral: Sif, eh???** **😉😏😘**

**Fandral: You can’t do better than that**

**Fandral: Also your dad may have casually asked about wedding venues after you left**

**Fandral: Then your mother hit him**

**Fandral: Would have expected that to go the other way…**

**Fandral: I don’t know why you two kept it so hush hush**

**Fandral: Afraid we’d tease you? Because I promise you, I will**

**Fandral: Frequently, and with great passion**

**Fandral:** **😘😘😘**

There were another 24 texts from Fandral, the most recent sent only five minutes ago, all annoying queries into their fake relationship. Loki hadn’t responded to a single one, which did not seem to deter Fandral in the slightest. 

Sif sent a message back.

**Loki: shut up fandral**

He replied immediately. 

**Fandral: Sif! I knew you two’d be together. True love cannot be kept apart.**

“He’s a special breed of annoying,” Sif said, tossing Loki’s phone back to him. 

“He’s your friend,” Loki said, pocketing the device.

“Coworker first, sort of friend second,” Sif replied. 

Loki sat down on his leather couch, twin to her recliner, his back against the armrest so he could stretch his long legs over the length of the couch. “I ordered Chinese for dinner,” he said. “Didn’t want to cook in case you thought it meant something.”

“Chinese is great,” she said, “so long as you ordered dumplings.”

“Of course I did; I’m not a heathen.”

They shared a smile, and it struck Sif just how comfortable this was. She may not be looking for a real boyfriend, but perhaps Loki would be a good candidate for friend. It helped that they were neighbors; maybe they could make after work debriefs a thing. 

A wistful smile tugged at her lips. She had friends, sure, but it been a long time since she had a friend who wanted to see her on a regular basis. It would be nice if Loki could fill that slot. 

“So how long have you been lusting after my brother?” 

All good feeling evaporated as Sif decided against Loki as a friend. “I’m not lusting after anyone,” she said coldly.

“My mistake,” he said. “How long have you been in love with him?”

That was even worse. “You presume to know so much from such a short interaction, most of which was focused on you?”

Loki shrugged. “When he approached, you flushed, your pupils dilated, and you gave the tiniest gasp of anticipation. It might have been adorable, were it not so expected. I don’t think I’ve met a female yet who didn’t salivate after Thor.”

Ah. Loki was jealous. Not of her interest in Thor specifically, but of women in general wanting his brother. Sif briefly considered being thoughtful, but decided against it. “Inferiority complex, much?” she asked, watching him stiffen. Jackpot. “You can’t possibly be jealous; I’ve known you for five minutes—and one dinner party,” she added before he could protest, “whereas I’ve known Thor for several years now.”

Loki was saved from replying as his intercom buzzed. It was their dinner, waiting to be let in. Loki busied himself with paying the delivery boy and refusing to let Sif contribute—he wouldn’t even let her cover the tip—and by the time they settled at his table, the previous topic of conversation was forgotten. Or more accurately, it was shoved to the side. Sif tucked it away in a corner of her mind as future ammunition should Loki broach a subject she’d rather leave alone. 

They were both proficient with chopsticks, saving them from mocking the other for their ineptitude. Loki had played it safe with his selections, opting for mild dishes in case she didn’t care for spicy things. It was surprisingly considerate of him. She didn’t mind spicy dishes and let him know for future reference, but she was touched that he’d thought about her palate at all. 

“So,” Loki said, once the food was dished up and they were both happily chowing down. “Now that all of our friends are mutual, we’re going to have to step up our relationship game if we want to convince anybody.” 

Sif grimaced as she chewed her orange chicken. “How so?” she asked. “Clearly they know you better than they know me, so feel free to take the lead.”

His long fingers tapped an agitated tattoo against the table, making Sif reevaluate the situation. She had expected him to declare a need for more intimate touching (a point she would have argued against, for he had already taken several touching liberties she would not normally permit a true non-boyfriend to take), but given his fidgeting, she thought it might be more serious.

“I… would not entangle myself with someone who worked for Asgard unless there were strong emotions involved,” he said slowly. “And while Thor, Fandral, and definitely my father won’t notice, my mother has eyes sharper than an eagle’s, and if she thinks for one moment we aren’t head over heels, she will call foul and put an end to the whole thing.”

Recalling Frigga’s piercing eyes, Sif did not doubt it. Her own agitation the previous evening had bought them a pass, but a second event with Sif so uncomfortable would not pass muster. She frowned slightly; clearly, Loki’s mother cared greatly for her son’s wellbeing. It did not sit well with Sif to deceive the woman. “Would that be so bad?” she asked. “I only initiated this to get Fandral off my back; I didn’t think I’d be lying to Frigga and Odin. I don’t just like your mother, I respect her, and I don’t want to get on her bad side.”

“Perhaps,” Loki said, “but this arrangement was made to benefit the both of us, and I would benefit greatly by my mother thinking I was settling happily into a relationship. You wanted Fandral off your back, but I need her off mine, lest I suffocate and drown under her well meant concern.”

“I see her all the time at work,” Sif said. “She will notice when we stop speaking of each other.”

“Easy enough to navigate,” Loki said. “I see you nearly every day.” 

Sif rolled her eyes. “Nodding in the mail room hardly counts.”

“I do not often add details to my stories. It will take her some time to notice, and by then I’ll spin a web about how you broke my heart, with enough holes she’ll see to the heart of the matter and conclude I broke yours instead. She won’t dare broach the subject with you.”

“Will I have to act broken hearted? I’m a lousy actor, I should tell you.”

“I’ve heard you’re very stoic; Mother will think nothing of it.”

What else had he heard? She was not sure she wanted to know, unless it involved Thor thinking she was hot. No, she did not even want to know that, for if Thor found her attractive and had not acted on it, she wasn’t sure how she would handle that. “How do you propose we alter our arrangement?”

He frowned. “We’re going to have to share intimate details of our lives. I will, at least, things Mother will expect a girlfriend of mine to know. You could make up whatever you want, I suppose.” He looked at her suddenly. “But not tonight. I will save that for the last possible second.”

“The car ride to the company retreat?” she half asked, half stated. 

“The last possible second,” he reiterated. In the blink of an eye his entire demeanor changed, a smile brightening his face. Sif couldn’t decide if it improved his looks or not. Loki did pull off brooding quite well. “Care to watch a movie?” he asked. Clearly the previous conversation was over. “It can count as a shared experience we don’t have to lie about.”

“Bonus points if you pick a movie I hate so we can bicker over it,” Sif said, and they moved their food to the couches as Loki selected the highly controversial _Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones_. He certainly delivered; their discussion at the end of the film was lively, as Sif defended her idea that it might be the worst piece of cinematography she’d ever witnessed, while he argued that it was one of the best depictions of character he’d ever seen. By the end of their argument, they were both laughing, and Sif couldn’t tell if Loki believed his own claims or not. Being a lawyer, she supposed it didn’t matter what he believed, so long as he won the argument. 

Sif left with a reminder to Loki to pack warm for her company retreat next weekend, a two night ski vacation. 

To her surprise, she was smiling as she entered her own apartment. 

* * *

During the following week, every time Sif ran into Loki it turned into a conversation that lasted a minimum of half an hour. Gone were their casual nods in the mailroom, replaced instead with long-winded complaints about coworkers and invitations for hot chocolate. They avoided all heavy topics, sticking strictly with light and harmless conversations. 

Sif had always thought relationships were built by sharing heavy things, but she was quite enjoying a lighthearted friendship. Within two days she had a decent handle on Loki’s personality: he liked to complain. A lot. Nothing was beneath his notice, and very little of it met with his approval. However, instead of being a negative drain, his complaints were filled with wicked humor that left Sif in stitches. In return, he tolerated her more realistic viewpoint. Sif wouldn’t describe herself as positive (and neither would Loki), but she was a far cry from the constant irritation and amused pessimism her new friend displayed. 

They watched five more movies, none of which they agreed on, and the arguments after were more fun than the films. Sif was determined to find a movie they both enjoyed, but as Loki didn’t seem to enjoy anything, she had a daunting task in front of her. 

At work, Fandral pestered her constantly about Loki. Armed with new experiences, she mentioned the movies they were watching and complained Loki had no taste, which was guaranteed to earn a 20-minute anecdote from Fandral as he recalled some past shared memory with Loki. Her loquacious friend didn’t seem to notice, but Fandral talked about Loki far more than Sif did, conveniently providing her with extra bits of knowledge about her new fake boyfriend that she used to convince her coworkers that she was actually dating Loki. 

The week was so enjoyable, Sif almost convinced herself to forget that she and Loki would have to pretend to be in love at the ski resort. She did such a good job convincing herself that she was quite startled when Loki took her hand in the company car sent to drive them to the resort. Staring at their entwined fingers, she gave Loki a pointed look.

“You’re so averse to touching that I’m attempting to break down the awkward barriers before we face my mother,” Loki said nonchalantly.

“ _I’m_ averse?” Sif retorted. “I don’t think you were hugged as a child. If one of my hairs brushes against you when I enter your door, you jump like a spooked rabbit.”

Loki shrugged. “So you’re awkward and I’m uncomfortable. Either way, those barriers need to come down.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, hating that he was right. “So I agreed to attending three of your family events, and since your family is present at my work events, shouldn’t we double dip?” she said, pretending this was the first time the idea had occurred to her. 

“Nope,” he said. It was such an undignified little word that it sounded funny coming from Loki’s lips. 

“No eloquent rebuttal?” 

“Nope,” he repeated, patting her hand. Sif scowled at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice that she didn’t actually mind the contact. “It’s about an hour to the resort, yes? I think it’s time for some deep, dark secrets.” Loki’s lips tilted downward. “I’m not interested in your sympathy, pity, or righteous indignation,” he said, “so please sit silently and let me recite the woes of my youth.” Sif raised her eyebrows, but said nothing, curious as to what qualified as a woe in Loki’s eyes. 

It took him another minute to start talking, and by then he was staring out the window at the passing scenery. “I’m adopted,” he said, which suddenly explained a great deal about him, including his pasty pale skin, so different from the peach tones shared by the rest of his family. “Not usually an issue, as adoption is a great idea, but I did not find out until I was in law school.” His lips twisted bitterly. “Apparently it is my father’s great shame.”

It did not take a genius to conclude that Loki considered himself his father’s greatest shame. Sif wondered if Odin felt the same, or if it was all in Loki’s head.

“I was doing an internship for Asgard at the time, which I finished under duress, then promptly changed my law focus to patents and did not speak to my family for five years.” 

Sif wanted to pull him into her arms, cradle him and tell him it was all right, but his admonition against pity (and feelings in general) stayed her hand. She contented herself with squeezing the hand she held. “There are more details, of course,” Loki said, “but they are of little concern. I reunited with my family when my mother was hospitalized with breast cancer, a battle she won. I knew it would break her heart if I left again, so I’ve made nice with Thor and Father.” He paused a moment, then added quietly, “Sometimes, I almost believe we all mean it.”

Sif did not know what know what to say, and was grateful she did not have to say anything. She let the silence drag on for several minutes before saying, “I walked in on my college boyfriend having a naked sleepover with a cheerleader.” Loki whipped his head around to look at her, eyes popped. “It was such a delightful experience, I haven’t dated anyone since.”

That was too much to admit. Usually she danced around the subject, never fully admitting she avoided dating. No one had ever caught on to her careful wordplay, and in one unplanned confession, she shared her closest-kept secret with a fake boyfriend she’d only known for about a week and a half. 

“Am I your first date since college?” he asked, disbelief coloring his tone. 

“No.”

“One date does not count.”

“I’ve been on two,” she did not mean to say. 

“For serious, Sif?” he demanded. “But you’re beautiful _and_ smart.”

“A lethal combination. I should have been busty and redheaded.” And she burst into tears, which had _not_ been on the agenda. 

There was a strange relief in admitting it all out loud. It sounded small and pathetic next to Loki’s much more serious story, but Haldor’s betrayal had been such a burden in her heart that there was great catharsis in speaking her secret. However, if she had known tears would be the result, she would have lied and said her parents abandoned her in a dumpster.

For his part, Loki looked as if he was debating whether or not to hug her, so Sif shoved a finger under his nose. “Don’t even think about touching me!” she said, voice watery and nose leaking. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said solemnly, looking out his window as he passed her a handkerchief he produced out of thin air. 

Who kept handkerchiefs on them in this day and age? She was grateful for it, sure, but it was a bit archaic. 

With her tears dried and her nose clear, Sif asked about the whether, which they both discussed in minute detail until the car arrived at the ski resort. Exiting the car, Sif quickly rounded it to open Loki’s door. “Sorry about that,” she said. “Asgard’s VP of Marketing should not be bawling like a baby on her way to a ski retreat.”

Loki shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t been on a date since I found I was adopted.”

Sif stopped moving. “Seriously?” she demanded. “But you’re—” _Hot,_ she thought but did not say. 

Loki gestured self-deprecatingly to himself. “Big bag of bitter,” he said. “Wasn’t going to inflict that on anyone.”

It struck her as funny, and suddenly Sif was overcome with the giggles. Loki looked at her like she had gone mad, which only made her laugh harder. The situation wasn’t even funny, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “Is this the part where I slap you?” Loki asked, raising his hand slightly.

“Please don’t,” she said, struggling to control her laughter. “I’m okay, really. Just…”

“Hysterical?”

“Very.”

They went to the front desk to check in, where they encountered their next bump in the trip.

“One room?” Sif repeated, staring at the perky receptionist. “I need two.”

“I have the room assignments from your CEO right here,” the girl said, showing Sif a list on Asgard company letterhead. “Sif and Loki, one room.”

“Oh, I heard you,” she said, “and I see it written down. But I still need two.”

“No can do,” the girl said, her annoying voice grating on Sif’s nerves. “I cannot authorize extra expense on the company account without express approval from the CEO.”

“Not a problem,” Loki said smoothly, gently pushing Sif aside before she throttled someone. “I’ll pay for my own room, separate from the company account.”

“Not an option,” the girl said, oozing fake sympathy. “We’re all booked up, between your corporate retreat and the usual holiday snow birds.”

“He’ll take a cot in the kitchen,” Sif said, shoving her way back in, “but we need a second space.”

“The kitchen’s all taken up by the rats and mice,” the girl said. Her sense of humor might have been appreciated had it be directed at anyone else, but Sif was two words away from earning herself an assault charge.

“Listen here, you little—”

Loki placed his hand over Sif’s mouth, cutting off her brilliantly biting insult. “We’ll make do,” he said, taking the key from the girl. Her stupid perky hand lingered on Loki’s, which only served to further infuriate Sif. She bit Loki’s palm, but instead of forcing him to remove his hand, he only clamped it down tighter. “Have a good day,” he said, half picking Sif up and dragging her to the elevator where a bellhop was waiting with their luggage.

Sif said nothing during the short elevator ride, storming into their shared room and leaving Loki to tip the resort employee. It was a decently sized room, as was to be expected for a member of upper management, and thankfully it had a couch. Perfect. Loki had a bed for the night. “That’s yours,” she informed him as he closed the door behind the bellhop. 

Hardly glancing at the couch, Loki said, “Oh, no. I’ll be on the bed.”

“Bed’s mine,” Sif said. 

“I can share.”

“I can’t.”

Loki shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Sif stormed back out of their room, cursing whatever deity put them in a situation where she could say _their_ room, and stomped about the resort looking for a friendly and familiar face. 

It was stupid to be angry about the room, she knew; they were, after all, pretending to date, and considering they were trying to make her coworkers and Loki’s family think they were serious about each other, sharing a room made sense. And really, she should have expected such an outcome, but she was so stressed about lying to Odin that she’d forgotten to worry about sleeping arrangements.

Finding a seat in the resort restaurant, Sif buried her head in her arms as she slumped against the table. 

“That bad?” Fandral asked, taking the seat opposite Sif. She raised her head enough to see her friend plop unceremoniously in his chair. “I saw you walk in; you looked like you’d been crying.”

She was mildly surprised he’d noticed. Being emotionally observant wasn’t on the list of things Fandral was good at. “Just a fight,” she said, which was half true. “I’ll get over it.”

Maybe. 

After she put spikes on Loki’s side of the bed (because she had no doubt he would find some way to sneak into it).

“Care to hit the slopes?” Fandral asked. “Heavy exercise in cold weather is a great way to work out your problems. By the time you see Loki next, you’ll forget you were ever mad at him.”

It was a solid idea, and Sif accepted.

Skiing had always been a favorite sport; she enjoyed the rush of wind in her face, the feel of flying downhill, and the sense of accomplishment as she completed each successive level of slope difficulty without falling down. By the time she and Fandral called it quits for the day, Sif had forgotten all about her irritation over her room situation.

She’d seen Loki a time or two on the slopes, but their paths didn’t cross until dinner, when all of Asgard’s invited employees ate together. Sif made sure to secure a table far away from Odin and Frigga, opting to eat with the CFO, Hogun, and his wife. Like everyone at Asgard, Hogun seemed to be well acquainted with Loki, and the two traded snide quips all through dinner. Sif shared an eye roll with Hogun’s wife, Melinda, and opted to ignore the men, discussing their time on the slopes and the quality of this year’s snow. 

By the time Sif and Loki returned to their room, she was back in good humor with him, though that vanished the moment they crossed the threshold. The couch had been made up with the extra sheets and blankets the resort staff kept on hand, and Sif’s pajamas were laid out on top. 

“No,” she said. 

“Sif,” Loki started, but she cut him off. 

“No.”

“You don’t want to share—”

“ _No._ ” 

“I’m giving you your space.”

“ _My_ company, _my_ retreat, _my bed._ ”

“Ours, dear. Didn’t you hear?”

“MINE,” she shouted, launching herself at the bed like a child and spreading full eagle so Loki had no room. It didn’t deter him, of course, and he jumped on top of her. It became a battle for dominance that Loki clearly expected to win due to his superior size, but Sif didn’t take kickboxing to be defeated by a frail little lawyer like him. Grabbing him in a chokehold, she dragged him off the bed and dumped him on the floor. “Mine,” she repeated as he gasped for breath.

“Noted, you feral creature.”

* * *

As predicted, Sif started the night alone in bed, then ended with a bedmate who hogged all the covers so she woke cold. Because she was kind and considerate, she kicked him off the bed, then locked herself in the bathroom while he shouted insults at her. 

Sif smiled. Loki was proving to be a fun friend. 

They went to breakfast together, where they ran into Frigga and Thor. “Sleep well?” Frigga asked. 

Sif turned a steely glare on Loki. “I slept like a baby,” he said cheerfully. “Warm and cozy. Great choice of resort, Mother.”

Frigga tsked lightly. “Don’t be a cover hog,” she chided.

“Me? Never,” Loki said.

Rolling her eyes yet again, Sif made for the coffee station, Thor trailing along behind her. She took her coffee black, while Thor dumped enough cream and sugar in his to qualify as a donut. “Is there even any coffee in that?” she asked. 

“A hint,” Thor smiled. “You know, it’s good to see you and Loki together. I haven’t seen him this happy and open since we were still in high school.” He hesitated a moment, eyeing Sif. “How much has he told you about our family?” he asked quietly.

“Enough,” Sif said. “I know about the adoption and the subsequent fallout.”

“Then you know I mean it when I say it’s good to see him happy. Thank you for giving us this gift.” Thor nodded at her, slipping away to join a brunette who looked much too young for him. 

Sif watched him retreat, not quite sure how to feel. If this was Loki happy, what had he been like for the past several years? She didn’t deserve any credit, as her whole relationship was a farce. She really hoped Thor still spoke to her when she and Loki “broke up.”

Were they allowed to be friends after a breakup? Everybody claimed that was the mature route to take, but in Sif’s limited experience, the last thing she wanted to do post-breakup was see her ex. Loki would be her fake ex, but his family and friends wouldn’t know that, and they might find her continued friendship with Loki strange, or worse, toxic.

She frowned. This fake relationship wasn’t supposed to be this complicated.

* * *

Sif spent the morning on the slopes with Loki, racing down the mountain. They were both proficient skiers, so naturally it turned into a competition. Sif started winning more often than Loki, so he proposed switching to snowboards, which he claimed to be better at. He wasn’t, which only served to annoy him and amuse Sif. 

They took a break for lunch around noon and headed inside for soup and sandwiches, only to find an ambulance rushing away from the entrance and everyone inside abustle with activity. “Did someone die?” Loki asked, looking around in interest. 

“If someone did, I hope you’ll show an ounce of sympathy,” Sif chided.

“Oh, I will,” Loki said, “to their face. Or rather, the faces of their loved ones. They won’t care, seeing as how they’re dead.”

He was so different from Thor, Sif almost couldn’t believe they were related. 

Speaking of Thor, Fandral popped up out of nowhere and said, “It’s crazy about Thor, right?”

“Why, what happened?” Loki asked with complete disinterest. “Did he fall and crack his skull open?”

Sif was busy looking around, trying to find where Fandral had come from. Behind that potted plant? But it was thirty feet away. Dropped from the ceiling? She looked up at the vaulted ceiling; if he had fallen from there, he would have landed with a thump. 

“Oh, so you watched it happen,” Fandral said, sounding disappointed. Sif whirled to look at him.

“Seriously? I was right?” Loki said, his voice edging towards glee.

“Is he all right? What happened?” Sif demanded. 

Fandral shrugged. “Oh, you know Thor. He got distracted by something pretty and some woman ran him over with her snowboard. He cracked his head open and broke his femur.”

Sif’s mouth dropped in horror while Loki started laughing. She turned a disapproving eye on him, but Fandral didn’t bat an eye, as if this was common behavior. “Not appropriate,” she said. “You promised an ounce of sympathy to the loved ones; now act like it.”

“I am his loved ones; I can laugh if I want.”

“It’s just the way they are,” Fandral assured Sif. “You should ask Loki sometime about the incident with the knife.”

“Alleged knife incident,” Loki said. “There was never any evidence that I stabbed him. Hearsay, thought up by a brother who was bitter that I didn’t have a pointy object sticking out of me.”

“I’m dating a psychopath,” Sif said, shaking her head. “Thor’s your brother; should we go to the hospital?”

Loki shrugged. “Probably, but he’ll be in surgery for a while. I say we enjoy our weekend first.”

Sif almost couldn’t believe how callous Loki was being, except that Fandral seemed to agree with him, inviting them to join him for lunch, as if Thor wasn’t being rushed to the hospital. She trailed after the boys, wondering if this was a male failing, or just a failing of these two in particular, when she spotted Odin reading a paper at the bar while nursing a beer. Loki did not seem surprised at all; she was starting to wonder if maybe it was genetic. 

Approaching her CEO, Sif asked how Thor was doing. Odin merely shrugged. “His mother will let me know,” he said, and returned to reading his paper. 

Sif stared, gobsmacked, then marched to the table where Loki and Fandral were already sitting. “You have fifteen minutes to eat and pack, and then we are being picked up by the car service and going to the hospital,” she informed Loki. He opened his mouth, so she shoved a finger under his nose. “Don’t even think of arguing,” she said. “Thor is your brother, and we are going to the hospital to share vigil with your mother. If you have a problem with that, then feel free to break up with me and move far, _far_ away, because I will insert myself into your family and oust you as second child, where I will promptly upstage you as a human being because your family will love me and the fact that I actually care. Fifteen minutes!”

To her gratification, he didn’t argue or say a word as he trailed after her to their room and quickly packed. He continued not speaking until they found the hospital waiting room and joined Frigga, who looked perfectly calm, belied only by her red-rimmed eyes. Loki sat beside his mother and took her hand. Sif scrounged up some bad hospital coffee for the three of them, then settled in to wait.

The surgery in full took nearly three hours, at which point the doctor said Frigga alone could see Thor. Patting Loki’s hand, Frigga followed after the doctor, leaving Sif and Loki alone in the waiting room.

“Thanks for making me come,” he said quietly. “I’m still going to laugh at him, because he wouldn’t recognize me if I didn’t, but I’m glad I’m here.”

“Your father should be here, too,” Sif said, sniffing derisively. 

Loki stared after his mother, an odd look on his face. “Yes, he should,” he said at last.

* * *

When they were finally allowed to see Thor, he was in between medication doses and almost lucid. Frigga sat at the head of his bed, smiling serenely, and a brunette stranger sat at the foot. The stranger was talking quickly in a strange language while Thor listened raptly, caught between a wince of pain and a dreamy smile.

Loki interrupted the brunette to make a comment in the same strange language, which is when Sif realized they were speaking in science. “You know of Einstein-Rosen bridges,” the brunette said, smiling widely at Loki. 

“I wrote a paper on them in college,” he said.

“She’s smart,” Thor said.

“Yes, that is obvious,” Loki replied. He held his hand out. “I’m Loki. And you are?”

“Jane Foster,” the woman said.

“She hit on me,” Thor said.

“One minor preposition changes context drastically,” Jane Foster said. “I _hit_ him, not hit _on_ him. It’s my fault he broke his leg.”

“My fault,” Thor said. “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, yes,” Loki said like Christmas had come early. “Please tell me you’ve already proposed to her.”

“Twice,” said Thor happily. “She said yes twice.”

Jane blushed. “Technically that is true,” she said, “but only because he started crying when I said no.”

“Welcome to the family, sister,” Loki said. “Mother, you must be thrilled. You’ll be a grandmother in no time.”

“Proposed to Sif, have we?” Frigga said, and even Sif heard the pointed _leave Jane alone_ tone.

“She’s terrible at sharing beds,” Loki said. “I may have to upgrade girlfriend models.” Sif reached over and pinched him, leaving a red welt on his pale skin. Loki gave the most satisfying yelp. 

“I wouldn’t marry him if you paid me to,” Sif said, turning her back on her fake boyfriend to crouch beside Thor’s bed. “How’re you feeling, Thor? All your synapses firing?”

“Everything hurts,” Thor said happily. Sif raised her eyes to Frigga, who was already reaching for the nurse call button. “So pretty,” Thor said, reaching for Sif’s hair. “Your hair is midnight. Janey’s hair is chocolate. You’re like a smiley Loki. He likes you, you know.”

“That’s enough of that,” Loki said. “Sif has already threatened to replace me as the second child, and I don’t need you adding fuel to her fire.”

“Third child,” Thor said. “Jane will be the third.”

“I think he means to hold you to that accepted proposal,” Loki told Jane, who looked thoroughly embarrassed. 

A nurse entered then to administer Thor’s drugs, and quite firmly recommended the party break up. Sif and Loki quickly took their leave, as did Frigga, but Jane stayed behind. Sif found this to be an interesting course of action; perhaps Jane had been sincere in her acceptance of Thor’s drug-induced proposal. Sif really hoped she was around when Thor came back to his own mind and realized he’d saddled himself with a stranger. 

Loki ordered them an Uber, which they took in silence. Sif was exhausted; between skiing all morning and sitting vigil all afternoon, she was pretty sure she could sleep for a year. Rolling her head over to look at Loki, she said, “Hospital. That counts as one of your family events.”

“Deal,” he said. “Fair warning: I think my mother is planning our wedding. Dragging my pathetic self to the hospital elevated you to sainthood in her eyes. Consider yourself warned.”

“Noted,” Sif said, closing her eyes. As she fell asleep, she idly wondered if Thor was correct about Loki liking her. She drifted to sleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

Sif didn’t see Loki for another week, not even in the mailroom. With Thor out of commission, Sif found herself extra busy at work, splitting Thor’s workload with the other VPs, and rarely made it home before midnight, where she collapsed into bed until her alarm rudely woke her before the sun was up. 

She thought about Loki frequently, in the spare moments between meetings. What was he eating? Was he lounging in comfy clothes, or had that hoodie and athletic shorts combo been just for show? Was he visiting his brother? Did he like cookies, and how offended would he be if she dropped some off at his doorstep?

Fandral got annoyed with her the third time he caught her doodling Loki’s name on a Post-it note instead of listening to him. Sif was annoyed with herself; her relationship with Loki was strictly fake, and on top of that, she didn’t even like him. He should not be occupying this large a space in her mind. 

Didn’t stop him from permeating her every thought.

There wasn’t a spare moment to be had before the company awards gala, her third and final date with Loki. As it was, Sif barely made it to that. She rushed home to throw on a dress, then ran next door to pound on Loki’s door. It opened almost immediately, an irritated Loki wearing jeans and a sweater greeting her. “We’re going to be late,” he said. “The ingrate Mother claims is my brother is asleep on my bed, and his personal nurse won’t let me in to dress.”

“Thor’s here?” Sif said, and pushed her way in. “How’s he doing? I read up on femur breaks, and it’s going to take a long time to heal.”

It took a moment to realize Loki hadn’t followed. Turning around, Sif saw him standing in the open doorway, watching her with a frown. “What?” she asked, then tried to look at her own backside. “Is there a tear in my dress?”

Closing the door, Loki said, “You look lovely, Sif, as always. Now, if you want to make it to your award ceremony, please battle the dragon for me and help me gain access to my own closet.”

Sif wrinkled her nose. “It’s not my awards ceremony,” she said, “but the company’s. I’m required to be there. Trust me, if it were up to me, I’d curl up on my bed and sleep for a week.” She mimed rolling up her sleeves. “Now, where is this dragon I am to slay?”

“I think he means me,” a familiar voice said. Sif whirled to face the living room where Jane Foster was sitting on the couch, reading something that looked very large and very boring. She offered Sif a smile. 

Looking back at Loki, Sif darted her eyes quickly to Jane to ask what she was doing there. Loki gave a longsuffering sigh. “Thor is staying here, against my express wishes, and the she-dragon responsible for him needing constant care has followed after him like a lost puppy dog. I have double intruders, and now my bedroom is occupied and I’ve been banished.”

“Don’t let him trick you,” Jane said. “He’s the one who insisted Thor stay here.”

“As if.”

“But he’s right about being banished from his room. Thor needs to rest!”

“I don’t care,” Sif said. “I have an awards ceremony to attend, and my date needs a suit. Your invalid can either sleep through the ruckus Loki makes getting ready, which is only going to take you ten minutes as we are already late,” she looked pointedly at Loki, “or he can wake up, deal with it, then go back to sleep after we leave.” Sif snapped her fingers at her fake boyfriend. “Dressed. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Loki and Jane said simultaneously, Loki gleefully, Jane like a scolded schoolgirl. 

Sif remained standing at the kitchen counter, looking into the living room. She was tempted to sit in Loki’s leather recliner, but feared if she sat down, she’d fall asleep and never get up. Instead, she focused on the woman sitting in the living room. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” she told Jane Foster.

“Honestly, neither did I,” Jane said. “But sometimes life catches you off guard.”

Loki stepped out of his room at that moment, having changed in record time. His tie was undone, but that could easily be fixed in the car. “Yes, it does,” Sif said, smiling at her date. 

* * *

Every year Asgard held its annual awards gala where Odin gave out between 10 and 20 awards of excellence. Some of the awards were standard, such as Employee of the Year, but some were unique, and only handed out when a major accomplishment occurred. Sif always attended, always alone, usually fighting off boredom. This year, however, she was not alone, and instead of feeling bored, she was feeling anxious. She was good at her job—very good—but she strongly disliked being publicly recognized. A quiet word from a superior was more than enough. Or it used to be; now she was the superior, and she had to give the quiet word. 

This year, she was being recognized as Employee of the Year, in recognition of her work after taking over the marketing department unexpectedly. She hadn’t bothered sharing any of the specifics with Loki, or any of the generals, for that matter, and was busy hoping some for a miracle in the form of a trash can fire that did little to no damage, but would result in the building being evacuated before Odin reached her name. 

“What sort of fools get to be recognized?” Loki asked mockingly, looking around at the hundreds of employees listening to Odin’s droning speech with rapt attention. 

“Unlucky ones,” Sif muttered. 

“At least the food is good,” he said. “Mother does know how to throw a party.”

Despite working in upper management for years, and as VP of Marketing for six months, Sif was still unclear as to what Frigga did in the company. She was important, everyone knew that, and everyone knew it was more important to stay on her good side than Odin’s. Beyond that, her duties were shrouded in mystery. 

Frigga had a hand in planning company parties, but even then it was unclear exactly what she did. Perhaps Sif would ask Loki to find out what exactly his mother did here. 

Loki’s fingers, long and cool, found Sif’s on the table and wrapped around them, bringing them to Loki’s mouth for a brief kiss. She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he smiled softly. “Fandral’s watching,” he said. Sif looked across the room to see her friend staring at their CEO. She was about to comment on Loki’s obvious lie when Fandral flashed her a wink so quick she almost didn’t notice it. He was back to staring at Odin before she could blink. 

Odin started in on the awards, beginning with Customer Service. He gave a brief description of what the award meant, then read a paragraph detailing the recipient’s service before finally calling the individual up to accept their plaque and cash reward. 

Thirteen awards were being given this year, and Sif’s was fifth on the list. She wanted to squirm, but knew it wouldn’t be becoming of the Marketing VP. She settled for squeezing Loki’s fingers. 

At last, Odin turned to face her. Sif really wished he wouldn’t. “Our next award is Employee of the Year. We are recognizing an exceptional young woman. When Malekith left the company, our name was in the toilet and our public image wasn’t much better. Our brand, meant to be associated with the golden halls of Valhalla, was being depicted as a snake in the grass. The new Vice President of Marketing immediately took to the problem and turned it on its head. Teaming with the head of Social Media and Advertising, she embraced the snake and reminded the world that it is also a symbol of healing. We have a long road ahead of us cleaning up our image, but with Sif at the helm, it will be a rewarding challenge.”

He said something more about her character and quality of work, then called her up to receive her award. Plastering on her company smile, Sif shook Odin’s hand, posed for a picture, and smiled at the many employees in attendance, many of whom were just as deserving of this award. 

Back at the table, Loki leaned in to brush a kiss against her cheek. “Nicely done, my love,” he murmured into her ear. Sif blushed. He was, of course, simply maintaining appearances, but did he have to be so good at it?

“Get off me before I stab you with my fork,” she whispered through a smile. Loki pulled back, grinning larger than before. 

“In another life, I think you would have been a warrior goddess,” he said, tilting his head as he pictured her so. “Something to consider for Halloween, at least.”

“Only if you wear the matching trickster costume.”

“That can be arranged,” he said, flashing teeth meant to be a smile. 

* * *

Frigga found them during the mingle after dinner. “Sif, dear, congratulations,” she said, clasping Sif’s hand. “Odin keeps telling me what a godsend you’ve been.”

“For cleaning up Malekith’s mess, or for cleaning up Thor’s?”

Frigga’s eyes trailed to Loki, who was having a heated debate with Hogun about something Sif had lost interest in before it started. “Among other things,” Frigga said. “And how is Thor? I haven’t had a chance to see him yet today.”

It was very telling that Frigga just assumed Sif had seen Thor at Loki’s. Their romantic ruse was a resounding success. Watching Loki deliver an animated insult, something tugged at a corner of Sif’s heart. “He was asleep,” she said absently. “Jane wouldn’t let Loki into his own room to get dressed, and he was very miffed about it.”

Frigga smiled. “I don’t know if Jane is a good match for Thor, as I have yet to see him interact with her soberly, but she is a good match for Loki. I always worried Thor would end up with the sort of woman Loki claims gives him headaches just by proximity. Jane holds much promise. Both of my boys are attracting excellent women.”

The smile on Sif’s face became fixed. Lying to Fandral had been for her own personal gain, but lying to Frigga… she almost confessed on the spot, but her words got lost on their way out as Loki slid his arm around her waist. “You need new employees,” Loki said to his mother. “Hogun’s an incompetent imbecile. Asgard will be bankrupt in a year if you keep him around.”

“Mm,” Frigga said noncommittally. “If you’ll excuse me, I must make the rounds. Congratulations again, Sif. I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

Sif was so distracted by Loki’s arm around her waist that it took a moment to process what Frigga said. Tuesday…? That was Christmas Eve…

“And that’s our cue to exit before you yell at me in public,” Loki said, whisking Sif to the elevator and smashing the close door button.

“I get Christmas Eve and Christmas off,” Sif said. “It’s company policy that your father insists on. So why does your mother think she’s seeing me on Christmas Eve?”

Loki shrugged nonchalantly. “Because I told her you will be attending with me.”

“Uh-huh,” Sif said. 

“You promised me three family events.”

“I didn’t say holidays!”

“You didn’t exclude them, either.”

“But what if I have family events?”

“You don’t, which is why I volunteered you to come with me.”

“And you know this how?”

“Combination of observation over the past few Christmases, most of which I also spent alone, and Fandral telling me so.”

Sif chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to decide how to respond. 

The elevator dinged, depositing them on the ground floor. Sif remained silent the whole car ride home, vacillating between yelling at Loki for being inconsiderate, refusing to go because it was her holiday and she wanted to spend it alone, and promising she’d be there so he wouldn’t be alone.

She didn’t say a word until they were standing between their apartments. Loki was giving her an amused look, as if he knew exactly why she wasn’t saying anything. She stared at him a moment, thinking back on how they had come to this moment. Three weeks ago she hadn’t known his name, and now he had R.S.V.P’d on her behalf. 

The thing was, she didn’t mind the idea of spending Christmas Eve with him. What she minded was fake spending Christmas Eve with him. She frowned; she minded that very much.

But a deal was a deal, and Sif intended to honor her word. “When were you planning on informing me?” she asked.

Loki leaned his shoulder against the wall, smiling down at her. “The next time I saw you, which turned out to be never. Your job is too demanding. You should quit and find something that lets you enjoy your evenings.”

“It’s temporary,” she said. “When Thor comes back to work, life will return to normal.”

Loki looked unimpressed. “Doesn’t Thor have underlings to pick up the slack?”

“Technically, I’m one of them.”

“You’re a vice president from a different department. Delegate.”

Was it just Sif, or did Loki seem closer than he was before? She could almost swear he was leaning. She blinked back that delusion; there was no way. He was just her fake boyfriend, and fake boyfriends didn’t lean without an audience. 

Trying not to sound breathy, Sif said, “Can’t. My underlings are busy in our department, and I don’t trust Thor’s underlings.”

“All the more reason to come to Christmas. I hear Mother makes excellent eggnog and roasts a fine pig.” 

Sif frowned. “I thought you said I was coming over for Christmas Eve.”

“You are. And for Christmas. I already told Mother, and I’d hate to disappoint.”

That snapped Sif out of whatever fog was encroaching on her brain. She glared at Loki. “Ask me before you promise my attendance,” she snapped. “I do have a brother, you know. We sometimes have plans.” 

Loki scrubbed his face into looking apologetic. Sif didn’t buy it for one second. “Sif, do you have plans on Christmas?”

“I do,” she said snootily, quickly opening the door to her apartment and slipping inside. She locked the door just as Loki tried turning the handle. 

“I know your plans are to come to my parents’ house,” he shouted through the door, “but I’d still like verbal confirmation.”

Sif revelled in saying nothing as Loki demanded acquiescence through the door. He didn’t sound particularly worried, but she liked to think she was making him sweat. She let him worry for two minutes before she opened the door and had to dodge Loki’s fist mid-knock. “This is your first Christmas with your family since your found out you were adopted, isn’t it?” 

He didn’t look surprised that she had figured him out. “Yes, and I’d like a buffer,” he said. “Mother likes you, and much more surprisingly, Father does. You’ll save me from murdering anyone, which, yes, is a very real possibility.”

“I’ll be there,” she promised. 

“Thank you,” he said, and sounded like he actually meant it.

* * *

The four days leading up to Christmas Eve found Loki at Sif’s apartment every night. With Thor taking up residence in his room and Jane constantly underfoot to help, Loki claimed he needed a bit of space. Sif thought spending time with her didn’t qualify as “space,” but she wasn’t going to complain.

Each night they fought over which takeout to order, then fought about which movie to watch. Sif had never had so much fun arguing with someone. It didn’t matter who won (inevitably whoever lost the food match won the movie match) nearly as much as it mattered that they were together.

Sif, unlike Loki, only had one couch, so they were forced into proximity. The first night they stayed on opposite ends of the couch, but each night they moved a bit closer until the end of the fourth night found them slumped together in the middle, close enough that Sif could say with confidence that Loki smelled fantastic. Loki had chosen that night’s flick, and Sif was busy complaining loudly about the unbelievable plot and obvious romantic intentions between the leads, even though they had less chemistry than a jock failing science. Loki was arguing just as loudly that it was refreshing to see true opposites attract each other, but the gleam in his eye said he didn’t believe a word he said. Sif was pretty sure he chose movies just to needle her, and wondered what sort of films he actually enjoyed. 

Not that she could say much, as she chose the cheesiest romantic comedies she could find just to watch Loki roll his eyes while she cooed excessively over the ridiculous romantic gestures. 

An evening was spent stressing over the fact that Sif had no presents for anyone, but Loki assured her none were expected. She didn’t believe him; at the very least, as a fake girlfriend she needed a gift for him. His parents would expect it. Thankfully, these movie nights together had given her an idea. 

Sif spent most of Christmas Eve day attempting to bake cookies so she could pretend like she had a hostess gift for Frigga, but every batch ended up burnt and her smoke alarm went off no fewer than six times. She finally gave up and slapped a cheap bow on an expensive bottle of wine. Unoriginal, but hey, she was only a fake girlfriend who Loki would break up with after the new year. No need to get fancy. 

Loki met her at his front door, laden down with bags and sporting an intense scowl. Sif looked at the half dozen duffel bags he was wrangling and asked what he was doing. “We’re moving Thor home, thank goodness,” he growled. “Father picked Thor up early and informed me I could gather Thor’s things and bring them tonight. The man’s been here for a week and he has more clothing strewn about the place than I do!”

It was an impressive amount of baggage. Sif helped get it all downstairs into Loki’s car, where it took up the entirety of the trunk and the back seat. Loki grumbled and cursed about the inconvenience all the way to his parents’ home. As soon as he removed the key from the ignition, Sif pressed the car lock button and forced Loki to face her. “What’s going on?” she demanded. “It’s inconvenient, sure, but you’re unduly angry given the circumstances, and I have no desire to spend an evening with your family while you stew like an angry teenager.”

He pursed his lips, clearly holding in a few choice words, before sighing. “It’s my father,” he grumbled. “It’s so like him to baby Thor while inconveniencing me."

“To be fair, Thor has a broken femur and is barely mobile,” she pointed out.

Loki sighed again. “I know. But if Thor had been staying at my place while his apartment was fumigated, it would have played out the exact same way. Thor is the favorite, and Odin makes sure I know it. Something about blood mattering more.”

That was a landmine, and Sif did not know enough about the Odinson family to comment on it. “That sucks,” she said, “and I’m sorry it’s happening. However, this is not Thor’s or Firgga’s fault, and you had better not take it out of them. That attitude you’re so charmingly carrying is going to make this dinner difficult, and most of us don’t deserve your ire.”

Loki glared at her and turned away, his jaw working with unspoken words. His angry breath fogged up his window. Lifting one long finger, he dragged a line through the fog, then exhaled long and slow. “You’re right,” he said. “Latent issues with my father shouldn’t interrupt Christmas.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. His fingers curled around hers and he held on tight until the tension leaked out of his body and he managed a weak smile. 

Together they hauled the bags out of the car and up to the penthouse, where they were dumped in the entrance hall. Loki kicked a bag for good measure, then adopted a brilliant smile and went to greet his mother. 

Sif had been expecting an ostentatious affair, but Christmas Eve in the Odinson house was intimate and quiet. There was good food, good drink, good music, and decent company. Loki put in great effort to be genial and avoided Odin as much as possible without being rude. He did quite well, in Sif’s estimation.

Thor was finally off his heavy duty painkillers and still could not stop talking about Jane. Gone were the declarations of marriage, replaced with loud detailings of how smart she was. Apparently she worked for NASA. Her brain, in his words, was “bigger than mine and Loki’s combined!” Not a difficult feat to manage, Loki dryly informed him, as Thor’s brain was the size of a pea. That brought the brothers to a scuffle, which ended almost immediately when Loki jostled Thor’s leg. Thor cried out in pain, and Loki laughed at him, which started a new round of brotherly fighting.

“Thank you, my dear, for bringing Loki,” Frigga said, coming to stand beside Sif. She watched her boys fight with a fond smile that Sif mirrored.

“He brought me, if you recall,” Sif replied, wincing as Thor landed a solid punch on Loki’s shoulder.

“He turned down my invitation for Christmas when he sent his regrets for Thanksgiving,” Frigga said. “He hasn’t attended a family holiday since college. Loki will meet with Thor or with me, but he has avoided his father for nearly a decade.”

Sif looked at Frigga, confused. “But he told me he comes to the company parties every three years,” she said.

“He does, for appearances,” Frigga said. “But he never stays longer than half an hour. I wasn’t expecting him this year, and I have you to thank for his presence. He told me he had another engagement.”

“I didn’t tell him where we were going,” Sif said. “Or rather, I didn’t know I needed to mention my company’s name. It never came up in conversation.”

“That’s unlike him,” Frigga said. “Loki usually runs a background check on all of his dates.”

Sif’s eyebrows flew up, and she turned to fully face Frigga. “Dates?” she said. “He told me he hasn’t been on one since college.”

“Mm,” Frigga said, taking a sip of her wine. “That’s a load of horse dung. Loki never attends any event with his father without a beautiful woman clinging to his side. You were simply the first one he spoke to like a human being.”

Sif looked at Loki, who was looking back at her. He grinned; she scowled. “Lying sack of horse excrement,” she muttered. “You are so dead.”

There was a delicate pause before Frigga said, “Will you still be joining us for Christmas tomorrow?”

“Oh, I’ll be here,” Sif said. “Loki might be in the hospital, but I’ll be here.”

Whether or not she was still speaking to Loki tomorrow would be determined by why he had lied to her. Lying for the sake of lying or lying to gain sympathy points would result in the alluded-to violence. Lying because he was trying to make her comfortable...well. She’d still be angry, but that was a much better motivation.

She confronted him about it the moment they hit the elevator. “You lied to me,” she said without preamble. 

He didn’t look disturbed. “About what?” 

Sif narrowed her eyes. “Just how many things have you lied to me about?”

“That depends on what you think I lied about.”

“The number of dates you’ve had.”

“Ah. Just that, then.” The elevator opened at the garage floor and Loki exited, but Sif stayed where she was and glared at him. He noticed as the elevator doors were closing. There was a ding, and the doors opened to reveal Loki tapping his foot. “Can we have this conversation in the car? I want to get home. It’s snowing.” Sif said nothing, continuing to stare. He rolled his eyes. “Fine, we can have a fight in the elevator.” He stepped in.

She crossed her arms. “Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t,” he said. “I haven’t had a date in years. Don’t argue, I know what my mother told you, but those were Tinder dates I brought along just to prove I was fine. One hour, and then I never saw them again, just the way I liked it.”

“Sounds like a date to me,” she huffed. 

Loki leaned against the wall and crossed his own arms. “Why do you care if I was on a date with someone?”

“I don’t,” Sif said evenly. “I care that you lied to me about it. It was a sweet moment, and now you’re retroactively ruining it.”

“Haven’t you heard? Ruining things is what I’m good at.”

It was Sif’s turn to roll her eyes. “ _You_ don’t even think that.”

“Don’t act like you know me.”

Anger spiked. She gripped her arms tightly with her hands so she wouldn’t lash out and hit him or throw a rude gesture his way. “I actually think I know you pretty well. Not everything, obviously, but I’ve spent more time with you in the past three weeks than I have with anybody in the past five years. I’ve seen you with your family, and I know your backstory with your family. I don’t think I’m out of line to say you don’t think you ruin things; you think your father ruins things. I haven’t spent enough time with your family outside of work to assess the validity of that thought, so I’m not going to touch it. But you, Loki, I know you. And I know you well enough to say you’re hiding behind a fake relationship rather than admit that maybe this could be more than fake. Because to admit you like me means allowing the possibility of letting me in and hurting you.”

“Don’t pin that entirely on me,” Loki snapped. “You’re just as scared to let me in. How long will it take this time before you’re tossed aside like piece of trash? It’s easier to psychoanalyze me and focus on my issues because they’re at the surface and very, _very_ visible. But yours are still there.”

“Don’t act like you know me,” she snapped back.

“And so the tables have turned.”

They stood glaring at each other, arms crossed and bodies rigid, breathing heavily. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to reveal tenants waiting to go up. “Get another elevator,” Sif snapped. 

“No need,” Loki said. “It’s rude to hold up transportation.” He dropped his arms and exited, his movements fluid. He smiled pleasantly at the couple as he passed as if he had not just been in the middle of an argument. Sif exited, too; staying with a pair of strangers was worse than following Loki.

He did not wait for her, moving towards his car with purposeful strides. Sif followed for two steps, then halted. She did not want to ride home with him. In his anger, he might cause an accident. And she was mad at him and did not want to be in a confined space with him.

At his door, Loki looked up to see if she was coming. Sif shook her head; he bared his teeth, slid into his seat, and peeled out of the garage. 

Pulling up her phone, Sif ordered an Uber.

* * *

By the time she got home, Sif’s anger had cooled. The silent car ride gave her a long moment to think about the argument and consider Loki’s words. He wasn’t wrong; she was afraid to let him in. He was short-tempered and tended toward being caustic. Apparently he didn’t think twice about lying, or “stretching the truth”, as he claimed. And he judged his father unnecessarily harshly.

But he also went out of his way to make sure she did not feel stupid for crying over a ten year old hurt. He continued attending her work functions, even when it was obvious he’d rather be anywhere else. He was a good sport and sore loser, and arguing with him over popular media was the most fun she’d had in years. He gave a lot of lip service to not liking his family, but when Thor was in need, Loki willingly opened his home and welcomed his brother. Complained excessively, sure, but he did not kick his brother out. And she had witnessed first hand how he welcomed Jane. Honestly, if the positions were reversed, Sif would have given the woman the boot almost immediately. Welcoming someone who had hurt her brother into her home was not something she thought she was capable of. 

She wasn’t willing to lose him over one fight. Sif wanted Loki in her life, and for the first time in a decade, she wanted to fight for someone. There was no guarantee he would feel the same way, but that wasn’t going to stop her from asking.

The door to Loki’s apartment opened as she knocked, so her fist connected with Loki’s chest. Sif was so surprised she left her hand where it had landed. He stared at their connection. “Getting handsy already, are we?” he said. Sif was pleased to note he no longer sounded angry.

Dropping her hand, she said, “I came to apologize. And to talk.”

He smiled wryly at her. “I was just coming over to do the same. Come in.”

Once again, Sif found herself in Loki’s leather recliner, snuggled with his fleece blanket, this time nursing a mug of hot chocolate. Loki sat on his couch, on the close end, his own mug of hot chocolate in hand. He stared at her for a long minute before saying, “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. It was warm and creamy, one of the better chocolates she’d had. 

The silence stretched as they both searched for something to say. A lot had been said in the elevator, and it was difficult to know what to unpack first. Sif ran her fingers over the soft fleece. Maybe she should start the conversation with the thing that would ensure she got to keep cuddling this magnificent blanket.

“Fake relationship’s over,” she said. “Any interest in starting a real one?”

Loki frowned over the rim of his mug. “Are you settling?”

“What?” she asked. “Settling for what?”

“Settling for me. You made it abundantly clear you weren’t interested in more, and you made it equally clear that you’d entertain offers from my brother.”

Oh. “Oh, Loki, no,” she said, leaning forward on the recliner. “Your brother is easy on the eyes, for sure, but I’ve worked with him for a long time, and in three weeks you showed more interest in me and provoked more feeling from me than he ever has.”

Loki relaxed, tension leaking out of his limbs. “So I’m not second choice,” he clarified. 

“Only choice,” she said, vacating the recliner to climb into Loki’s lap, bringing the fleece with her. It took some maneuvering, as they were both holding full mugs of hot chocolate, but Sif wrapped her arms around him and held tight. “Only choice,” she repeated, then added, “favorite choice.” Loki’s hand started dancing patterns across her back. It felt good. “Though I have to be completely honest with you: I’m mostly here for this blanket.”

“Good thing we’re a package deal,” Loki murmured, looking at her intently. He slowly leaned forward and captured her lips. He tasted like chocolate. 

Pulling back, Sif moved a hand to stroke his cheek. “You don’t don’t ruin things. In fact, I’d say this is the opposite of ruining.”

“I’m sorry for lying,” Loki said, running his nose alongside hers. “But I meant what I said; I don’t consider those women dates.”

Sif brushed her mouth against his. “Forgiven.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “At least you talked to me like I was human.”

Loki pulled back, far enough that he was out of reach of her lips. Sif pouted at him. “What?” he asked, confused. 

“Something your mother said,” she said, tugging him back so she could give him a proper kiss that evolved into a string of proper kisses. 

Some time later, as they were washing out their mugs, Sif smiled and said, “We survived our first fight, and we weren’t even dating yet.”

Loki snorted. “Please. We’ve been dating since our first date, and you know it.”

“I do,” she said, and smiled.

* * *

Frigga gave everyone matching sweaters for Christmas and insisted they wear them. Loki complained loudly, but Sif shut him up with a kiss. She liked the sweaters, and liked matching her new boyfriend. 

The only other present exchanged was from Sif to Loki: she gave him a collection of Hallmark Christmas movies. “You have terrible taste,” Loki immediately announced. “I can’t wait to mock you for your poor choices.”

“Be careful; you’re one of them, brother,” Thor said. 

“I’m an excellent choice,” Loki said. “This drivel she calls romance? I question her competence, taste, and sanity.” To Odin, he said, “You might want to rethink keeping her on. I’m not sure she’s all there upstairs.”

“Still better than that shoot ‘em up flick you made me watch last night,” Sif said, eating another one of Frigga’s jalapeno poppers. “At least my characters know each other’s names.”

“Is this a time travel one?” Loki asked, reading the back of the box. “We’re starting with this one.”

In reality, Sif didn’t care at all about Hallmark Christmas movies, but any excuse to annoy Loki was a good one. The movies had originally been her attempt to keep seeing Loki when they ended their fake relationship; she had hoped he would understand what she was trying to do without having to actually say it. Now, with 100% assurance that he wanted her around, the movies were just another excuse to cuddle and mock fight. 

Loki tossed the box set aside and tugged Sif into his lap, wrapping his arms securely around her. Thor made a gagging noise from his place on the couch; he’d been complaining all morning about how they were entirely too touchy-feely for a couple that had been dating for months. Neither bothered to correct him about the new genuine start of their relationship, opting instead to annoy him by sharing a kiss.

Of course, Thor was equally annoying as he gave a play-by-play of his texting conversation with Jane, which was getting progressively sappier. Really, it was a surprise Frigga hadn’t thrown the lot of them out yet. 

Loki’s parents stood by the door, smiling at their children. There were definitely some issues yet to be worked out there, but Sif was confident Loki would come to recognize and accept the love both of his parents had for him, and the love he still harbored for his father. It would be a long road, but they had plenty of time.

Sif was content to be part of this family for however long she had the privilege. Snuggling into Loki’s arms, she laced their fingers together, pleased she was allowed to touch him and be touched by him in return.

“Actually, we should watch this movie now,” Loki said, dislodging Sif so he could set up the DVD player. “You’re going to hate it,” he informed Thor, “and will have plenty of ammunition to mock it with me.”

He was wrong.

Thor loved it. 

And Sif gloated about it for the rest of their lives.


End file.
